


Rerun

by jessie_pie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2257512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessie_pie/pseuds/jessie_pie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Gabriel trapped the Winchesters in TV Land, he wasn’t the only one facing unexpected consequences. Set after Season Five, Episode Eight “Changing Channels”.<br/>(As per usual, Dean is not entirely politically correct.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rerun

**Author's Note:**

> Many, MANY thanks go to Osito, who not only betaed this fic, but also spent several hours salvaging a work in progress from a damaged USB. He deserves Dean's amulet!  
> ... Which, like everything else in Supernatural, isn't really mine to give.

Dean stared at the ceiling of the motel room. The largest cracks in the plaster were barely visible in the darkness. From the sound of Sam’s breathing, he could tell that his brother wasn’t asleep either. It was a common occurrence now- both Winchesters lying awake, because sleep meant facing the past unarmed, and neither speaking, because words meant pushing their way through barricades of mistrust and deceit. Dean tried to find a more comfortable position on the sagging mattress. A spring poked hard between his shoulder blades. He groaned with frustration.  
“Dean?” Sam’s voice came out of the darkness. “Remember how the Tricks- Gabriel put us in that show called Supernatural?”  
“Like I’m going to forget that in a hurry. It sucked.”  
“It was a pretty lousy show, yeah, but- in some ways it wasn’t so bad.”  
“At least we knew how to deal with everything that was trying to kill us in there. No nutso balls-whacking Japanese dude.”  
Dean was pretty sure the mattress spring he heard squeak was the sound of Sam cringing.  
“Not just that. It was all little stuff again. I mean, no one died except the monsters. We could save people. We had a chance to win.  
“And, Dean? In that world... it was like it used to be. Before-” Sam sighed. “I don’t know. I guess that’s why I brought it up.”  
Dean was staring at the curtained window now. But even without turning his head he was sure Sam was fixing either him or his own patch of the ceiling with big, sad eyes. The whole conversation was getting pretty touchy-feely for him. He rolled onto his side, toward the window.  
Now the spring was digging in to his ribs. A long red streak, the tail lights of some passing truck, shown through the heavy fabric, looking like the trail of a falling star. “Yeah. I liked that too.”


End file.
